The Hero of Old
by Rau'un Keeper of Knowledge
Summary: Duraorn Agurolg is an experienced warrior, practiced healer and mage, and, most importantly, the dragonborn. When he is called to High Hrothgar by Paarthurnax, he learns that an ancient evil is beginning to stir in a distant land called Westeros, and that he must unite the nation to fight off the powerful enemy.
1. Chapter 1: The Dragonborn Comes

Chapter 1

High on the summit of the throat of the world, a voice thunders forth, echoing throughout the land.

A warrior hears the call, and sets out for High Hrothgar.

Reaching the base of the mountain, Duraorn Agurolg begins the climb. Several days later, he arrives at the temple of the greybeards.

Further still, he climbs, until he reaches the summit. There, Paarthurnax is waiting.

"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin. It is good to see you are well."

"Why did you summon me, Paarthurnax?"

"There is something you must do. A quest you must take on. Nii los do zoklot nizraadom. It is of the greatest importance."

"What could be so important for you to summon me like this? You have never done such a thing before."

"Ko himdah gut nol het, kruziik vokul alok. In a land far from here, an ancient evil stirs. An evil that, if unchecked, shall sweep across that land and all others."

"What is it, and how can I destroy it?"

"Hi nis. You cannot, not alone. You must rally the land behind you. But the land where the evil dwells is trapped in civil war. You must unite them to fight what is coming, or it shall roll over everything in its path".

"What in all of Nirn has such immense power?!"

They did not come from Nirn. They were born from dark magic, which has long since been forgotten. In the dragon tongue, they are known as Sot paagoliik. White walkers. They wield powerful black magic, an ancient form of necromancy. They can raise the dead."

"I shall stop them. Where in Nirn must I go?"

"They do not dwell in Nirn, Dovahkiin. The land is known as Westeros. It is far across the sea. You must go to King's Landing, the nation's Capital. But beware, Dovahkiin. The city is rooted in evil. You must trust no one."

"I don't trust anyone now."

"Then you must leave. Call Odahviing. He shall take you there."

Duraorn shouted into the sky, his voice echoing off of the mountaintop.

"OH...DA-VIING!"

Soon, a great red dragon joined them on the mountain. As Duraorn mounted him, Paarthurnax spoke again.

"One last warning, Dovahkiin. The Westerosi people have not seen dragons in many years. If Odahviing is seen, you will most likely be attacked. You must be careful. Odahviing must remain out of sight.

"Yes, Paarthurnax. We shall be watchful."

The dragon spread his wings and drove them down, driving his body upward. He could the gales that blew around the mountaintop in his wings and soared away, towards the sea. To Westeros.

 _ ***Kings Landing***_

An old man kneels before Joffrey Baratheon, King of Westeros.

"And why have you brought this old man before me, Ser Meryn?"

"He was insulting you, your grace. When we arrested him, he insisted upon seeing you."

"And why is that?" The king asked.

"I do not know, your grace. He would not say."

"Well, old man? What is it that is so important that you must waste my time?"

The old man mutters something under his breath.

"What's that? Do speak up, old man." The king said, a hint of disgust in his voice at the thought of a dirty old man being around him.

The old man muttered again, slightly louder this time.

"If you won't tell me what it is you want to say, then I shall not have you waste any more of my time!" the King said spat angrily. "Ser Meryn! Get him out of my sight!"

"Of course, your grace."

"Of course your grace", the old man said in a mocking tone.

"What did you say?"

"You are a cruel king, your grace." The old man said, staring right at Joffrey, a fire in his eyes.

The king sat back, eyes wide in awe that anyone would DARE to speak to him in such a manner, much less a feeble old man.

"You are a cruel, vicious king who does not care for his people. The only reason you are King at all is because you were lucky enough to be born as a son of Robert Baratheon. I have heard the stories, _your grace_. Attacking an unarmed boy, running at the first sight of danger back into the arms of mommy dearest. You are not fit to wear a crown boy. Much less sit on the iron throne of Westeros."

The king had now gotten over the initial shock and was furious that this man was speaking to him in this way.

"How DARE you? I am the King of all the seven kingdoms, and I will not tolerate such insolence!" He yelled, standing up off the throne he sat on. "Guards! Behead this man!"

The knights of the Kingsguard exchanged glances, then quickly walked over to the old man and prepared to chop off his head.

The old man spoke again. "The people of Westeros will not have to tolerate your rule much longer. He comes. The hero of old. He of dragon's blood. Not a Targaryen, one of those imbeciles that dare to say they share the blood of dragons. The animals the control are not true dragons. He who is truly of dragon's blood comes now. He will save us. For you are too blind to see there is a greater threat. You would rather squabble with the other "Kings" who vie for the throne. He shall save us soon. For he comes, he comes, the dragonborn comes.


	2. Chapter 2: The Red Keep

**Hey Guys, so I'm really glad that you like the story, I'm enjoying writing it a lot. I'll try to keep posting chapters on a regular schedule, although I'm going on a 4 day backpacking trip tomorrow, so there'll be a short break. It will give me some time to write, though, so next time I post, I'll probably have several chapters finished. For future reference, any requests and/or questions will be responded to here, before the chapter begins. I've already got a couple, so I'll answer them now.**

 **Q:** : **Is the king Aerys the so called mad king in this story if so can you put Rhaegar in Maybe hope update very soon**

 **A: Sorry, no, neither Aerys nor Rhaegar is going to appear in this story. "The Hero of Old" begins during Joffrey's rule, just after Eddard Stark's Execution.**

 **Q:** **Seems legit. I would recommend your dragonborn race to be a nord cuz I feel that they would be more useful when it comes to frost resistance like in the north. And because the nord would seem to fit in more.**

 **A: I agree, being Nordic would be useful, but I decided to make Duraorn a different race. I created the name especially for him, because it fits the race he is.**

 **Q:** **interesting start though i am wondering what race your dragonborn is.**

 **A: Thanks for the compliment! I purposefully kept Duraorn's race a mystery, because I felt like I could better use the reveal somewhere later in the story. I decided to reveal Duraorn's race this chapter, although I made some tweaks to the race that I felt could make the story a bit more interesting.**

Chapter 2

It took several days to reach Westeros on dragonback. On the fifth day, when the sun has just begun its descent, they saw land on the horizon. Later that day, they made landfall on an island not far from the mainland. There they rested for 3 days, and then once again they flew, making sure to stay high enough that no one would see them.

Odahviing flew Northeast across Westeros, and within a day, they saw King's Landing.

They landed in a large forest near the city, and Duraorn used a spell to conjure his horse from the realms of oblivion.

It was an incredibly large horse, to compensate for Duraorn's orcish size. It wore Daedric battle armor, as did he, and was completely black, with red eyes that glowed like coals and would frighten the bravest of men. This was no ordinary horse. This was a Night Mare.

As Duraorn rode through the gates, a hush fell over the city. He could hear whispers coming from the crowds that collected around him.

"Who is that?"

"He's even bigger than the mountain!"

Look at his horse! It's massive! And did you see its eyes?"

"Look at HIM! What kind of armor is that?"

Such things were to be expected, of course. There was only one race in Westeros - humans. And no human grew to his size, nor did their horses grow to the size of the Night Mare. The whispering about his armor were unsurprising as well. It was Daedric armor, and strange would be a massive understatement. His weapons were Daedric as well, and he had no shortage of those. He had 2 short swords, one strapped to each of his sides, as well as a greatsword on his back, with his bow and quiver strapped to his horse.

He rode ever closer to the Red Keep, being sure to keep his horse at no more than walking speed.

As the Orc rode up to the gates of the keep, the soldiers on guard told him to state his business. He simply looked at the one next to the lever to open the gate, and the soldier became terrified. Who could blame him? The Daedric helm's dark visor hid his eyes completely, leaving nothing to see but a dark void.

The soldier scrambled to open the gate, and Duraorn passed through.

As he approached the red keep, he dismounted his horse. Not wanting to scare the citizens much more than he already had, he simply said, "If you touch him, he will kill you", instead of sending him back to oblivion. The men standing closest to them went wide-eyed and stepped back at the sound of his rough, inhuman voice.

He approached the keep on foot, the soldiers staying well out of his way. Normally, they would attempt to stop anyone, no matter who they were, but Duraorn was unlike anything they had ever seen. Needless to say, he had no trouble getting into the keep. Once he was inside, he walked up to one of the guards in the hall, towering above the poor man, who looked as though he was about to soil himself, if he had not already. Duraorn simply said, "Throne room", not bothering to add an inflection. The guard nodded hastily, and pointed towards the east end of the hall.

"G-g-g-go down there a-and take a right. Big doors on y-your left", the man said meekly.

Duraorn nodded, and walked where the man had told him. As he neared the throne room, he heard people talking. One voice, in particular, sounded snobbish and arrogant compared to the others he heard. Knowing how Kings often were, that was probably who it was.

As he neared the door, the voices fell silent. No doubt they had heard his footsteps, stomping towards the door. When he opened it, he hear several people give out loud gasps. One girl, a red-head standing near the throne, looked like she was going to faint. Duraorn had that effect on some people, especially in his Daedric set. He looked to the end of the room, and on a raised platform sat a large throne, which looked to be made of many swords forged together. On the throne sat a boy. Presumably the king. Though he did not look to be kingly material. He looked arrogant, and carried himself in a way as though he was better than others. He also saw cowardice. The boy shrunk into the throne when he saw Duraorn, and he went a little bit pale. A king should not act this way.

Duraorn strode right up to the bottom of the steps that led to the throne, and stopped.

The boy had worked up some courage in the time it took the Orc to walk to the throne.

Who are you, to barge into my throne room unannounced?"

Duraorn remained silent.

The boy spoke again, with more conviction this time.

"I said, WHO ARE YOU?"

The boy was beginning to grow angry at Duraorn's silence. His face was starting to turn red. This boy obviously has a short temper. Duraorn had hoped that was not the case.

At last, the Orc spoke.

"I am Duraorn Agrolg. To whom do I speak?"

The boy stepped back a bit. He was clearly surprised by Duraorn's voice.

"You are speaking to your KING!"

Duraorn chuckled.

"What? Is something funny?"

"You are not my king." Was Duraorn's reply.

The boy looked taken aback. His shock turned to rage as he shouted "I am the Lord of the seven Kingdoms! King of the Andals and the first men and the one true heir to the iron throne of Westeros!" The boy-king was had practically turned into an apple by the end of his speech, his face was a bright red.

"You misunderstand. I am not of Westeros."

The boy-king looked slightly calmer, now that he knew one of his subjects was not saying he should not be king.

"You are from Essos, then?"

"No."

The boy-king's face was suddenly flooded with confusion. If this giant of a man was not from Westeros or Essos, then where could he possibly be from?

"Well, then. Where are you from? Beyond the wall, perhaps? Are you a wildling?"

"I know of no wall or wildlings. I am not from this continent. I am from a distant land, across the sea. I hail from the great province of Orsinium, in Tamriel."

"Tamriel? I have not heard of it." The boy-king said as he put down his wine. "By the way, take of your helmet. It is rude to wear it in the presence of a king."

Duraorn was silent.

"Did you hear me", the boy king spat, obviously angry that his command had not been obeyed, "I said, remove your helm!"

"You will not like what you see," Duraorn said grimly. He knew how humans in Nirn reacted when they saw an Orc for the first time, but these humans had most likely never even heard of Orcs.

"I don't care", the boy-king said. "Take. It. Off."

"Very well."

As the Orc removed his helm, several of the people in the room gasped, it was like when he first walked in. The king especially looked terrified, and the red-head actually did faint this time.

After the king got over the initial shock, he spoke again.

"W-what ARE you?"

"I am an Orsimer, an Orc."

Duraorn was an impressive specimen even for an Orc. He had tough green skin, large tusks at the corners of his mouths, and his face was decorated with red war paint. His hair was white as snow. One of his eyes was blood red, with a pitch-black pupil, and the other was as white as his hair, with a large scar running down from above his eyebrow to his cheek, going right through his eye. On top of all of that, he was absolutely massive. Standing at 8'9", he towered over all men, and was noticeably taller than most orcs.

"Y-you're a monster! MONSTER! Guards, kill it! KILL IT NOW!"

The kingsguard ran at the massive Orc, who simply picked one up and used him to render the others unconscious, before throwing him at a wall and knocking him out, too. He then turned back to face the king.

"You listen here boy", he spat. "You do not matter to me at all. I have killed kings before, and I won't hesitate to do now, especially a king like you. So you will tell me what I want to know, and then I will leave, peacefully. Or, you may try to stop me, in which case I will kill every man who tries to get in my way. That includes you, boy. Am I clear?"

The boy-king looked furious and terrified at the same time. His pride would not let him back down though, and he said,

"How DARE you speak to me in such a manner?! I'll have your head for this!"

Duraorn had run out of patience. He grabbed the boy-king by the neck, and lifted him off his throne as if he were a feather.

"You are testing me boy, and I do not think you will like what you find if you continue to do so." The boy-king suddenly went white as he realized what could happen. "Now, are you or are you not going to tell me what I want to know?" The boy-king began nodding furiously.

"Good. I am going to drop you, and if you try to run away, you will die."

The Orc let go of the boy-king, who scrambled back towards his throne while gasping for breath.

"Who else has a claim on this throne", Duraorn asked.

The boy-king looked up at him, obviously scrambling to gather answers in his mind.

"There are 3 others who have claims on the throne, though I am the only true king of Westeros!"

Duraorn shot the boy-king a dirty look, and the young man went back to telling him about the others with a claim on the throne. "There are my uncles, Stannis and Renly Baratheon, each of whom have independent claims on the throne, then there is Daenerys Targaryen, with her damned dragons, across the narrow sea,"

"Dragons? Did you say Dragons?"

"Yes, that Targaryen filth has 3 of them", he spat. There was hate in his voice. "Why? What do you care?"

"How does she control them?" Duraorn asked.

"The Targaryen's have always been able to control the dragons. It is 'in their blood' or so they say. There is also Robb Stark, the 'King in the North' as he is being called. He is not fighting for the throne, he is fighting to make the north its own nation, separate from the other 6 kingdoms."

"Very well. You have served you purpose"

The boy-Kong closed his eyes and held up his hands, expecting a blade, but no blade came. He sat on the floor of the throne room, his kingsguard around him, all out cold like the imbeciles that they were. He heard shouting outside. He ran to the window and saw the man - no, not a man, a monster - the monster who had interrogated him riding out of the city. Just then, his mother and uncle ran into the room, and his mother ran up to him.

"What happened? Are you okay? Oh, my poor baby..." She said as she embraced him.

"Get off me, mother." He spat. "I'm not a child."

"Yes, of course you're not. You're the one true king of Westeros."

"That I am, but I will appear weak if someone can simply stroll into my palace, dispatch my guards and interrogate me without hindrance!" The boy-king said. "We must hunt this intruder down, and kill him like the monster he is."

*The Kingswood*

Duraorn rode up to Odahviing, who asked "What did you learn, zeymah?"

"There are 3 others fighting for the throne, and a 4th fighting for the northern territory's independence. The boy-king who lives in the Red Keep is not fit to be king, so I can see why there are multiple rebel groups. One of them interested me especially, though. Her name is Daenerys Targaryen, and she has 3 dragons."

Odahviing snorted, his eyes widening. "She has three dovah?"

"Yes," Duraorn said, "I'm not sure whether they are allies, or if she controls them with magic."

"I have not heard the power of the thu'um in the air of this land," the dragon said, "They do not bend do its power. It is something else."

"Well, then," Duraorn said, "let's go find out what 'something else' is."

"Indeed, dovahkiin, let us fly to Essos."

Duraorn mounted the great red dragon and Odahviing drove his wings down, thrusting them upwards until try were well above the trees. Then they turned, and flew east once again, this time towards Essos, and the so-called "Dragon Queen".

 **Hey guys, so if you didn't notice, the thing I changed about orcs is that, in this story, they are larger than men. The reason Duraorn is so huge will be explained later, but for now, you'll just have to use your imagination.**


	3. Chapter 3: The Dragon Queen

**Hey guys, sorry about the wait between chapters, I went on a backpacking trip and couldn't upload. This will be the first of two chapters to come out today, the other will come out in a couple hours.**

 **This Chapter is going to be a bit more Daenerys-Centric, just so that it helps meld the stories together.**

 **Enjoy!**

*Yunkai*

Daenerys Targaryen sits in her tent, her army standing at the gates of the city of Yunkai. One of the masters is coming to meet her. Her three dragons, Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, sit beside her, competing for her attention.

Razdal mo Eraz enters the tent.

"Greetings, Razdal mo Eraz, wise master of Yunkai." Daenerys said.

The dragons chirp and screech quietly at the stranger.

The master quickly attempts to intimidate the Queen into giving up the attack.

"Yunkai was ancient before Valyria rose to power, and many armies have tried to conquer it. All have failed."

"A battle hard-fought would give my unsullied some much-needed practice," Daenerys responds.

Razdal is silent for a moment, then speaks.

"There is no need to do battle. I have a deal for you."

Razdal signaled two slaves, who brought forth a large chest. They opened it, and it was filled with large gold ingots.

"There is a ship full of these, waiting for you in the bay, as well as many other ships to carry your army. We will overlook your attack on Asterpor and give you all this, if you leave Yunkai in peace."

"I have a different deal," the dragon queen said, "I will spare the lives of you and all of the masters of Yunkai, if every slave in The city is set free, and given as much food, clothing, and property as they can carry in payment for their services. If my offer is rejected, I will show the wise masters of Yunkai no mercy."

The master leans back in offense, his eyes widening.

"Yunkai will be a much greater challenge to conquer than Asterpor or Qarth, and we have powerful friends who would take great pleasure in destroying you and your army."

The three dragons roar at the stranger. No one may threaten their mother.

Razdal jumps, scared by the dragons.

"I was promised safe conduct while negotiating terms!" He shouts.

"My dragons made no such promise," Daenerys replies icily, "and they take great offense to threats toward their mother."

Razdal signals the slaves to take back the chest of gold, but the dragons guarded it and screech at them, and the slaves back off.

The master gets up and storms off in a hurry, not bothering to say any more.

Jorah Mormont steps forward, saying, " I suggest you find out more about Yunkai's powerful friends before you commit to a siege, Khaleesi."

*Several days later*

Daenerys, Jorah, and Ser Barristan hide behind a ruined building, overlooking the encampment of the Second Sons, the private military force that the Yunkish have employed.

"There are about 2000 of them," Ser Barristan notes, "and they are armored and mounted. They will be enough to do serious damage to the unsullied."

"I want you to organize a meeting with their leader," Daenerys says. "Men who fight for gold cannot afford to lose to a girl."

Shortly thereafter, Daenerys hosts the captains Mero, a Braavosi also known as the Titan's Bastard, and Prendahl na Ghezn. Also in attendance is Prendahl's capable and striking lieutenant, Daario Naharis. Daenerys attempts to strike a deal with the captains, but they refuse, pointing out that they will not get their rewards until Daenerys sits on the iron throne, which is a distant prospect.

"A year ago, I had no army, and four months ago I had no dragons," the queen replies, "I will give you two days to make your decision."

That night as Daenerys bathes, she and Messandei are attacked by one of the unsullied. He removed his helm, revealing Daario Naharis, the Second Sons' Lieutenant.

"The captains and I ran into a 'philosophical disagreement' over your beauty," he says, before dumping their heads on the floor.

Daenerys stands up, asking Daario to bend the knee and swear fealty to her. Daario does, and swears his sword, his men, and his heart to Daenerys.

*Somewhere over Essos*

Odahviing soars through a cloud, above what is known as slavers bay. Duraorn found out that the Targaryen girl had been traveling up its coast, conquering several cities along the way. In Asterpor, he found that she had traveled to Yunkai, to conquer it as well. So, they had set off towards the city, and now they circled above it, high in the clouds, where no one could see them.

"We shall follow them from above, for now. We shall reveal ourselves soon."

"Of course, zeymah. I can smell the dragons from here. They are dragons, indeed, but they are small, they are not yet grown."

"Then they won't be a problem for me if I'm attacked?"

"Indeed, dovahkiin. You could slay them easily."

"Good." Duraorn said grimly.

And so they watched the city from above.

*Yunkai*

Daenerys waited before the gates of Yunkai, waiting for the slaves to exit the city. She was slightly worried. The slaves in Yunkai were treated better than the slaves in Asterpor, and she was concerned that they might have grown fond of their chains. She cast the thought from her mind.

"Even if they are treated better, they are still slaves, and any man would want to be free of such bondage," She thought.

The gates soon opened, and the slaves of Yunkai slowly exited the city. Messandei told them of who had freed them, of Daenerys the unburnt, and the slaves began to look to Daenerys and chant "Mhysa". Daenerys was confused. She looked to Messendei, who said,

"'Mhysa' means 'mother' in the old Ghiscari language."

The slaves of the city were freed, and it was Daenerys' doing. For that, they loved her as they would their mother.

As Daenerys and her army marched to Mereen, she saw something that made her blood curl and her heart fill with sorrow.

A child, crucified, so that they were pointing the way to Meereen.

"Who did this," she said, "WHO?!"

Jorah responded, "The masters of Meereen, Khaleesi."

She saw two more, farther down the road.

"How many are there?"

"One hundred and sixty three, Khaleesi. One for each mile between here and Meereen."

Daenerys was disgusted. Children. Crucified, and left to rot on crosses on the road to Meereen. She would make the masters pay dearly for what they had done here.

When Daenerys and her army arrived at Meereen, they prepared for a siege. However, a lone rider exited the city, and rode to face the army.

"I believe they mean to have a duel, your grace." Ser Barristan said.

"For what?"

"The city, your grace. They have seen how you have conquered cities in the past, and wish to defeat you without having to do battle."

The man had gotten off of his horse now, and was shouting something while pissing into the sand. He was insulting the queen.

Daario stepped forward and said,

"I will be your champion, my queen."

*Far above Meereen*

Duraorn watched from dragonback as the army approached, then made camp outside of the city. He watched as the walls filled with people, and as a lone rider came out of the city. He stopped a distance away from the army's camp. He obviously meant to duel a champion of the dragon queen.

"It is time for me to make my first appearance before the would-be queen, Odahviing." Duraorn said.

"Very well, zeymah. Shall I land?"

"No, no no. I want a dramatic entrance. I shall jump. My armor shall keep me safe from the fall. It has many enchantments on it."

"Very well, dovahkiin. Prepare yourself."

*Daenerys' encampment*

Daenerys was slightly surprised at Daario's offer, he was quite new to her service. But after some thought, it was not at all surprising. It was obvious he was an arrogant man, always ready to jump at the chance to do battle.

"Very well, Daario. You may fight for me."

Just as she finished, they heard a sound like the sky broke open. They looked up, and they saw a large black dot falling from the clouds, growing ever larger. As it grew closer, they saw that it was a man, and their eyes widened. The figure landed like a meteor not far from where they were standing. As the dust cleared, they expected to see a body, lying on the ground. Instead, they saw the man, rising up from where he landed in a crouch.

He was a behemoth of a man. He was much taller than anyone else present, much taller than anyone else present had ever seen, even the mountain. He wore a strange and terrifying armor, that was black and covered in spikes. In the crags that covered the armor it glowed red, and the helm had two large horns. On each hip, he carried a short sword that seemed to be of the same make, and a greatsword on his back. The strangest thing of all, though, were his eyes. Because they weren't there. In the space where his face should have been, there was a void, that seemed to be as deep as eternity.

As the man rose to his full height, he looked around at the group, his eyes landing on Daenerys. Then he turned and looked at the rider, and began to walk towards him.

As the rider spurred his horse to charge, the man started to jog, then broke into a sprint. He was faster than anyone Daenerys had ever seen. As he reached the horse, he leapt up, being careful not to harm the animal, and grabbed the rider off of his horse. He slammed him down on the ground, and then removed one of his short swords and stabbed the man in the chest. It was a brutal display of force and skill, and showed that whoever this man was, he was not to be trifled with.

He got up and began to walk back towards the camp.

Duraorn Agurolg, the dragonborn, had come.


	4. Chapter 4: Dragonborn

**Hey guys, I'm really sorry about the wait on the new chapter, and that its pretty short, but school just started, and I've been a little bit overwhelmed because it's my first year of high school and im still getting used to the new environment.**

 **You should be able to expect some more chapters coming out soon, albeit at a slower rate than the first few did.**

 **I also have a couple ideas for some other crossovers that I thought would be cool, because I'd like to have more than one thing to write about so I don't go into gridlock only thinking about one storyline. Here are a couple, each of which I think would be really interesting. They're all Game of Thrones crossovers, but only because there's so much to work with in the GoT universe, and it's just such a great storyline.**

 **Potential Game of Thrones Crossovers:**

 **ARK: Survival Evolved**

 **The Hobbit (Smaug-Centric)**

 **The Inheritance Cycle**

 **Godzilla maybe?**

 **As I said, these are a couple I thought might be cool, but you guys are the readers, so you get to decide what I write. Anyways, enjoy this chapter in the meantime, and I'll see you guys in a couple days.**

 **Chapter 4: Dragonborn**

As the man approached Daenerys and her advisors, the group grew tense. Who was this man? Where did he come from? Why was he so massive? How did he survive the fall?

The man walked up to the group and stared directly at Daenerys.

"Daenerys Targaryen, I presume?"

The Queen was startled by the man's rough voice, but she refused to show weakness, and replied,

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Breaker of chains and mother of dragons. Who are you?"

The man chuckled. "It is good to see you show courage in the face of a man such as I. I visited the boy-king in his castle, and he was not so brave. I could see the fear in his eyes, the color draining from his skin."

"You did not answer my question," she said.

"Straight and to the point, I see. I am Duraorn Agurolg, I hail from the Orsinium province of a land far away, known as Tamriel."

"I have never heard of Tamriel."

"Neither had the boy-king."

"I must ask," Daenerys said, "How is it that you are so large? The largest man in all the world would be at least a foot shorter than you."

"I am not a man." Duraorn replied.

Daenerys' eyes widened.

"How did a woman grow to such size?"

"I am not a woman either. I am not human."

He went to remove his helm.

As he did, the reaction he got was generally the same as the one he received in the in the Red Keep.

"I am an Orc."

Daenerys looked as if she was going to faint, yet at the same time she kept her strong, prideful look about her. This woman was most certainly more fit to rule than the pathetic boy-king.

"I-I have never heard of Orcs," she said, stuttering only once. "Your kind do not roam these lands."

"I am well aware," Duraorn said. "I would like to see your dragons."

"Excuse me?"

"Your dragons, may I see them?"

Daenerys looked surprised, but said,

"Yes, but I must warn you, they are usually aggressive towards others."

"They cannot harm me," the orc said with utter confidence.

The dragon queen was a bit confused, but invited him in all the same.

As the dragons saw the massive figure, they walked slowly towards him and, to Daenerys' astonishment, bowed to him.

"How are you making them do that? What kind of spell have you cast on my dragons?!" She exclaimed.

"I have not cast a spell of any kind," Duraorn said. "They simply know when they are in the presence of their better."

"Their better? Their better?! You think you are better than them? No one is better than them! They are dragons!" The Queen sounded furious. "Get out of here immediately or I will have you killed for saying such things!"

"I am their better. In my land, dragons are not just animals, they are intelligent creatures that can speak as well as you or I. They breathe fire and other things by using shouts, or phrases in the language of dragons. A dragon battle is a deadly verbal debate. They are beings whose very bones ring with dominance, and power. Especially power. To dragons, power is truth. The most powerful dragon of all, the first dragon, Alduin, was hell-bent on destroying the world. In the legends, there was a hero who would be born for the sole purpose of stopping him. A mortal whose veins were filled with dragons' blood, and who had a dragons' soul. He was the only one who could defeat a dragon forever, by devouring its soul. He could harness the power the power of the thu'um, the shout, and defeat the dragon of old. He was called dragonborn." He looked the Queen dead in the eye, and said, "I am dragonborn."

The queen's eyes widened with shock as she heard the tale. To hear that this man, no, this orc shared the blood of dragons, as she did.

"Y-you are like me?" The Queen asked, "You share the blood of the dragons?"

"No, I do not share the blood of dragons. I am a dragon. Trapped in a mortal's body. And all the dragons of Tamriel now follow me, because I bested Alduin, the world-eater. Even Melekith, the Daedric prince whom all orcs worship, has blessed me with strength beyond that of any Orc. He blessed me with this gargantuan form."

The Queen began to look skeptic. A dragon? In a mortal's body? That sounded very strange.

"You don't believe me," the orc said. "I understand. I have someone with me to back up my story."

"Who?" Daenerys asked.

Duraorn walked outside and said,

"How do you think I got here?"

Then, he turned his face to the sky, and shouted.

"OH...DA-VIING!"

Suddenly, a roar shook the sky. Out of the clouds came a massive red dragon, with sky blue wings and spines like blades that ran down his back.

The great red dragon landed in front of the tent, and it looked right at the Daenerys.

"Drem Yol Lok, Daenerys Targaryen. I am Odahviing."

"Y-you speak!" The Queen shouted! "I can't believe it!"

Her three little dragons came running out of the tent, chirping at the great red dragon.

"The Orc speaks the truth. He is truly dovahkiin, dragonborn. I bow to the power of his thu'um."

The Queen looked speechless.

"We are not here for formalities, Odahviing. You know why we are here."

The Queen looked slightly confused.

"There is an evil that grows in the north of Westeros. An ancient evil. Brought to existence by magic that has since been forgotten. If it is not stopped, it shall make oceans freeze, and all will perish." The old dragon said.

The Queen seemed to understand now.

"The white walkers are gone. They vanished beneath the ice thousands of years ago."

"They are returning, Daenerys Stormborn. They have begun to walk again. I was sent to Westeros by my mentor, Paarthurnax." Said Duraorn. "I am to unite the seven kingdoms of Westeros to fight them. But the boy-king is pathetic and weak, and he cannot be the one who leads them. You are much stronger, and will make for a much better leader."

"But how will I lead? I do not have enough ships to take my army across the narrow sea, and I cannot take Westeros without the unsullied!"

"Then you must build ships, or you shall take them. And we shall help you." He gestured to Odahviing.

"You will help me take back the iron throne?" Daenerys suddenly looked more hopeful than ever. With this man helping her, as would have no difficulty at all reclaiming her birthright. Not to mention that he had a dragon with him.

"Is that what that thing is called?" Duraorn retorted. "Looked rather uncomfortable to me."

"Uncomfortable or not, it is my birthright as a Targaryen."

"Lucky you. I didn't get such a nice birthright. I had to hunt and kill dragons. I had to feed on their souls. And soul-eating is not pleasant."

"You will not harm my dragons."

"No, I won't. They are nothing more than animals. The dragons I slew had the intent to end the world." Duraorn said. "But back to the matter at hand. We must take the city."

"We, "Daenerys said, gesturing to her advisors, "have come up with a plan."

She nods to Grey Worm and he leaves the tent to signal catapults, which launch barrels full of broken slave collars into the city.

"Now that the slaves have seen how I have freed other slaves, they shall perhaps consider rising up against the masters to free themselves." Daenerys said. "We just have to make sure that they do."

At nightfall, Grey Worm leads a group of unsullied into the city's sewers, where the find a group of slaves discussing Daenerys and her army. The unsullied arm the slaves, who rise up and kill the masters in the night.

*The Next Morning*

After they took the city, Daenerys ordered the unsullied to round up the former masters and had them bailed to crosses, the way they ordered the same to be done to slave children. Ser Barristan asks her for a word, and says,

"This city is yours. All these people, they are your subjects now." He says. "Sometimes it is better to answer injustice with mercy."

"I will answer injustice with justice." Daenerys says firmly.

Later, Daenerys stands on the balcony of the great pyramid of Meereen, the screams of the masters echoing through the city.

*Days later*

During a meeting of her council, Jorah informs Daenerys that King Joffrey Baratheon has been killed, poisoned during his wedding to Margery Tyrell. Daario Naharis informs her that he and the second sons have captured the Meereenese navy, which contains 93 ships.

Ser Barristan encourages Daenerys to sail to King's Landing. The forces in the city will be tired from fighting, and the city will easily be hers.

Jorah counters him, saying that she is not trying to become queen of King's Landing, she is trying to conquer Westeros. While her army could conquer the city, they will not be able to conquer all seven kingdoms. Ser Barristan says that the old houses will flock to Daenerys, recognizing her as the rightful queen, but Jorah is doubtful, saying "They will flock to whoever they think will win, as they have always done."

Jorah also has some more disturbing news. Without the unsullied to enforce her rule, the wise masters have regained control of Yunkai and sworn to take revenge on Daenerys. Also in Astapor, the council she left has been overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who has taken control of the city and declared himself "His Imperial Majesty".

Ser Barristan still thinks that they should sail to King's Landing, but Daenerys disagrees, saying "How can I possibly hope to rule all the seven kingdoms if I cannot stay in control of three cities?" She says that she will stay in Meereen and do what queens do: rule.


End file.
